


The Filmography of Archibald Bryson

by SlippinMickeys



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, First Time, MSR, based on a manip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlippinMickeys/pseuds/SlippinMickeys
Summary: This is based on an awesome manip photo of young, college-aged DD and GA by Titila4ever78_ I got peer pressured into writing it by about five different people on Twitter. You know who you are, and I love you for it.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 24
Kudos: 147





	The Filmography of Archibald Bryson

Karla’s was a coffee shop about a block from campus. The pie wasn’t half bad and the coffee was strong, and Karla didn’t care if you stayed more than a couple of hours as long as you kept ordering it. 

Elements of Film was a popular elective -- it filled a humanities credit that most majors required, and though the class was two hours twice a week, one of those days the professor just showed a film, and it was a great way to get caught up on sleep. Not that Dana ever did that.

The class had been assigned a group project -- and the group to go with it — and it was the first one of her college career. Though technically a sophomore -- AP classes as a high school junior had qualified her to take some college courses senior year -- Dana still felt (and looked) like a freshman, though she wore an overly large coat and had her hair teased out to here. The group was supposed to meet at Karla’s at 6:00, and she showed up 15 minutes early because that’s just who she was. 

She scored a booth and ordered a coffee from none other than Karla herself, who was usually behind the counter, but occasionally took a few tables when they got busy or when she was bored. Looking around the mostly empty diner, Dana figured that she was probably bored. 

A few minutes after 6:00, Jessica, the only other person Dana knew in EoF walked in, backpack slung over one shoulder, and her hair up in a frizzy ponytail. Jessica was a sophomore and sweet, but kind of ditzy, and she lived three doors down on the same floor as Dana in the Brody dormitory complex. She was glad they’d been assigned to the same group so that she’d at least know someone, but knowing Jessica’s study habits, Dana figured she wouldn’t be a whole lot of help on the project. 

Jessica slid in across from her, dropping her backpack into the booth first and pushing a string of gum out of her mouth with her tongue -- spearmint, if the color was any indication. 

“Hey,” Jessica said.

“Hey,” Dana returned, looking to the coffee shop’s door when someone else walked in. She turned back to Jessica. “Do you know any of the other people in the group?”

Jessica shook her head and reached into her backpack, pulling out a slightly crumpled sheet of paper with their assigned project partners. 

“Looks like we’ve got Doug Holland, Anand Prasad, and… Fox Mulder. I think he’s the senior who sits in the back row and snores?”

Dana shrugged. She didn’t know him -- she always sat up front. It was a remnant from her overeager high school days and also because being so short, it was just easier to see the screen. She’d never met Doug, but thought Anand might also be in her astronomy lab.

She flagged Karla down for her second cup of coffee and figured she should pee before they really got started, so she left her own bag on her side of the booth and excused herself. When she got back to the table, there was a tall lanky kid with a mop of dark brown hair sprawled behind her coffee cup. He was wearing a denim shirt and a dark blue overcoat and the cocky expression of a senior in a mainly sophomore class. 

“Hey,” she said, when she got back to the table.

The guy raised his eyebrows with a half-cocked smile as she approached and pointed to the coffee. 

“Is this yours?” he asked, and she nodded at him. He scooched over a bit, pushing her bag further against the wall and leaving her just enough room to sit comfortably. When she slid into the booth, her left leg pressed against his. 

Just then, the bell above the door dinged, and in walked Anand and Doug. Anand slid in next to Jessica and Doug grabbed a chair from the next table and sat in it backwards at the head of the table, arms crossed over the top, looking at everyone expectantly. 

“So…” he said, “this everybody?”

Everyone looked at everyone else until the guy next to Dana raised his hand and introduced himself, using his last name. 

“Mulder,” he said. 

Doug huffed a laugh and said, “I’m Holland.”

Taking a cue from this, Jessica said, “McCullough.”

“Prasad,” said Anand.

Dana raised her hand and said, “...Scully.”

“Guess we’re all here, then,” said Doug. “Any idea which director we’re going to pick for the project?”

The assignment was to pick a film director, each student in the group selecting a film in the director’s oeuvre and doing a five minute presentation on their selection, with a group presentation directly after on an overarching thesis connecting the director’s films. Looking at the sausage fest in front of her, she figured they’d go for Coppola or Hitchcock, and seriously doubted she’d be lucky enough that they’d pick someone interesting like Bryson. 

“How about Coppola?” said Doug.

“Hitchcock?” offered Anand.

“You guys pick, I don’t really care,” said Jessica, snapping her gum and leaning back. 

She felt rather than heard Mulder sigh next to her and he leaned forward in the both, his leg still pressed to hers. 

“Can’t we do someone interesting like... Bryson?” he asked, and Dana turned to him slowly, intrigued. 

“Bryson would be great,” she piped up, and Mulder turned to look at her, his lips quirked up in a grin. 

“The thing is,” Doug said, “I’d love to do  _ Apocalypse Now _ . I’ve seen it like fifteen times, I could do a presentation on it in my sleep.”

“Come on, Holland,” Mulder said, stealing one last look at Dana before he leveled a look at Doug. “We’re supposed to be _ learning _ , here.”

“I’m okay with Bryson,” Anand said, with an eye to mediation. 

“I don’t care one way or the other,” said Jessica on a snap. 

Just then Karla came by with Dana’s second cup and everyone else ordered a soda or a water. Mulder put in for a couple orders of fries for the table. “My treat,” he said. 

His mood improved with the promise of free grease, Doug leaned forward as Karla walked away. 

“What are some of Bryson’s movies again?” he asked. 

“ _ Once Upon a Time in Charlevoix _ ,” Dana said. 

“ _ Blowout _ ,” Mulder listed, “and  _ The Kenyan Prophecy _ . Though my favorite has always been-”

“ _ How to Fold a Fitted Sheet _ ,” Scully said at the same time he did. He swung his eyes to her, beaming, and she felt her stomach do a flip. “It’s my favorite, too,” she said. 

They held eyes for a minute until Doug cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him. 

“The thing is,” Doug said, “Bryson’s pretty obscure.”

“That just means no other group will pick him,” Anand said, “and we won’t have to start over if Professor Taggert gives Coppola or Hitchcock to some other group first.”

Dana looked over at Jessica, who was smiling at her and flicking her eyes to Mulder. Dana felt her cheeks go red.

“Does the video store even carry his stuff?” Doug asked. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Mulder said, leaning back, “the university library has his whole filmography.”

Karla came by and plopped down two huge baskets of fries and a couple of plates. 

“Ketchup’s on the table,” she said, and walked away. 

Doug popped a fry into his mouth and leaned back, chewing thoughtfully. 

“I guess we could do Bryson, then,” he said, “but I call  _ Blowout _ .”

“Fine by me,” Mulder said, pulling one of the plates toward himself and loading it full of ketchup. “Wanna share?” he said to Scully. 

She nodded at him and smiled and he bit a long fry in half. 

“Feel free to double dip,” he said. 

“Did Bryson do that experimental movie?” Jessica asked, still looking between Mulder and Dana with an intrigued expression. “The one with the animation?”

“ _ Transformed _ ?” Anand answered, “yeah, that was him.”

“Can I have  _ Transformed _ , then?” Jessica said. 

“Go for it,” Mulder said, taking another fry. 

Scully reached for a fry though she didn’t feel hungry and dipped it thoughtfully into the ketchup. 

“I’ll take  _ Kenyan Prophecy _ if no one wants it,” said Anand. 

“Sure,” said Scully. 

“You should do  _ Fitted Sheet _ , Scully,” said Mulder softly from next to her. 

“I thought you said it was your favorite,” Dana said. His eyes were like uncut emeralds, his gaze as sharp as a knife.

“I thought you said it was yours,” he said. “I’ll take  _ Mirabelle’s Social Reform _ ,” he went on, “I like a good love story.”

“ _MSR_ _is_ a good love story…” she said. 

“The best,” he replied, looking directly at her as he popped a fry into his mouth. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed it. 

“Cool,” Doug said, reaching for his bag as though he’d lost interest. “So we all watch our respective movies this weekend and meet sometime next week to form our thesis or whatever?”

“Works for me,” said Anand, who reached for his bag, too. “Thanks for the fries,” he said to Mulder. 

Mulder nodded at him and he and Doug stood and headed for the door. 

“I gotta go, too,” Jessica said, sliding out of the booth. “You guys should stay, finish the food.” With that, she kicked Dana lightly under the table, and gave her an obvious look. Dana was mortified. 

She pursed her lips and considered offering to move to the other side of the booth, but Mulder looked casual and comfortable and she didn’t want it to be obvious that he was throwing her off her equilibrium and not necessarily in a bad way. 

“I should probably get to the library,” she said instead, “see if they have a copy of  _ Fitted Sheet _ .”

She didn’t actually want to leave.

“I’ve got one,” Mulder said, “you’re welcome to borrow it, or even…”

He trailed off and she looked at him expectantly. 

“If you wanted, you could come over to my place this weekend and we could watch  _ Fitted Sheet  _ and  _ Mirabelle _ ? Try to strategize a thesis that’s not Holland-level dumb? I have decent copies of both films and a cold six-pack of Shiner Bock...”

Scully laughed. 

“Saturday?” she offered. 

“Done,” Mulder said, leaning into her as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. 

He threw a twenty on the table and looked outside where dusk had set in, the streetlights winking on with an orangish glow. 

“Where you headed?” he asked her. 

“Brody,” she said, sliding out of the booth. 

He followed her and grabbed her bag for her, handing it to her. 

“You want some company?” he asked, “I’m headed that way anyway.”

“Sure,” she said. 

They meandered through campus; through the central diag and on past the old Engineering Hall, taking the long way to the Brody complex. Dana found him surprisingly easy to talk to, and found that they had more in common than just a shared love for Bryson films. He was graduating in the spring, but planned to come back for grad school, was taking the film class to top off his credit load for the semester. 

“This is me,” she finally said when they got to the door of Brody. 

“It was nice meeting you, Scully,” he said, “I’m looking forward to Saturday.”

He reached out and hiked up the strap of her backpack where it was falling off her shoulder. 

“Me too, Mulder,” she said. 

He took three steps backward looking at her all the while, before turning around and walking away. 

XxXxXxXxXxX

Jessica cornered her the next day in the caf while she was filling up at the salad bar. 

“He’s into you,” Jessica said, apropos of nothing, while she hovered over Dana’s shoulder, watching as she pecked through the cherry tomatoes with the tongs in an effort to find the freshest. 

“Who?” Dana said, without looking up. 

“Fox Mulder, Dana, you know exactly who I’m talking about,” Jessica said, moving along as Dana did, now loading her salad up distractedly with whatever happened to be in front her. “Because you are  _ so _ into him, too.”

“Jessica, honestly,” she said, wondering just how transparent she was, and if color was rising to her cheeks. 

“Let me matchmake, I need a project,” Jessica said, following Dana over to an open table and plopping down across from her. 

“You  _ have _ a project,” Dana said, “aren’t you supposed to be watching  _ Transformed _ and prepping five minutes on it?” 

“I haven’t watched it yet,” Jessica dismissively, “have you watched yours?”

“I’m watching it Saturday,” Dana said around a mouthful, realizing too late that she’d put on too much dressing. 

“Knock on my door when you’re about to start it, I’ll come watch with you.”

“Can’t,” Dana said, lowering her eyes and her voice, “I’m watching it at Mulder’s.”

Jessica stared at her a moment and then triumphantly shouted:

“YEAH YOU ARE!!” 

Everyone within a ten yard radius swinging their eyes to glare at their table. 

Dana set down her fork and rubbed her temples. 

“Jessica-” she started to say. 

“Do not  _ Jessica _ me, Dana,” Jessica cut her off, “there was  _ chemistry _ there. Like, crackling, undeniable wanna-share-my-ketchup  _ chemistry _ .”

“Didn’t you fail Chem?” Dana challenged. 

“I dropped it before I could fail, and don’t change the subject,” Jessica said. “Do you need condoms? The RA has, like, a giant box in her room.”

Dana shoved another overdressed bite into her mouth. “We will not be needing condoms,” she said with her mouth full. 

“That’s what my mom said 19 years ago and here we are.”

Dana decided to try a different tactic. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” she said, “it’s for the group project and you’re part of the group.”

Jessica held up three fingers in the Girl Scout salute. 

“On my honor, I will be neither the third wheel nor a cockblocker.”

Dana glared at her. 

Jessica stood from the table.

“Wear that blue shirt you wore to the Delt party,” she said, and turned to walk away. “And grab a few condoms from the RA!” she said over her shoulder loudly, then threw her head back in a laugh. 

XxXxXxXxXxX

Dana hadn’t grabbed any condoms, but had worn the blue shirt, justifying that it was the only thing clean which wasn’t remotely true. 

Mulder swung open the door almost before she finished knocking. 

“Hey,” he said on a smile. He was wearing worn-through jeans and a Led Zeppelin tee shirt and he smelled like Irish Spring -- his longish hair was still damp from a shower. “Come on in.”

She stepped into the apartment expecting to see old socks on the floor and a neon Corona sign, but the space was tidy, if a bit dark, the furniture worn, but nice. Unsure why, she had expected it to smell like bong water. It was unlike any other college-aged guy’s apartment she had ever been in, including her brother Bill’s. 

“You hungry? Thirsty?” he asked politely as she kicked off her shoes. 

“Don’t put yourself out,” she said. 

He turned toward what appeared to be the kitchen. 

“It’s no problem,” he said, “I made some popcorn, anyway. You want a beer?” 

He’d opened the fridge and was standing in the open doorway, the light coming from inside illuminating the winged man on his shirt. 

“Sure,” she said, so she’d have something to do with her hands.

He pulled out two and opened them with a bottle opener that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet. He handed her one and clinked the necks together. 

“Cheers,” he said. 

He pointed over toward the couch in the living room and she made her way over to it silently, plunking down on the far side and tucking her feet under herself. He sat down on the other end and put the popcorn bowl on the narrow coffee table in front of them.

“What do you want to start with?” he asked, “I was thinking maybe we start with  _ How To Fold a Fitted Sheet _ and end with  _ Mirabelle _ ? Get the intense stuff out of the way first.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, and took a swig to cover for her nerves. He was  _ so cute _ . 

He got the movie going on the VCR and sat back down, propping his feet up on the table and crossing his legs at the ankles. His feet were long and pale, with a sparse sprinkling of hair on the tops. He threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

“Jessica tells me you’re the guy in the back row that snores during the films,” she said to him as the opening credits began to run. 

He turned to her, feigned a wounded look. 

“I resent the implication that my classroom sleeping is anything less than perfectly subtle.”

She laughed and he chuckled too, then held the popcorn bowl out to her. She accepted without a word, scooching herself closer to him so they could share. 

By the time the second act started, her leg was pressed gently against his, and at some point he’d put his arm behind her on the back of the couch. When she turned to see what his reaction was to the late second act reversal, she found him looking at her, his lips parted and his eyes soft. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his before she had a chance to think about it. 

His lips were warm and pillowy soft. It took him only a second to return the kiss, sliding his arm down from the back of the couch and around her shoulder. When she pulled back, he smiled at her briefly and then he leaned back in for another kiss, this time prodding her lips with his tongue, seeking entrance. She granted it, her nipples turning to tight peaks under her bra, and kissed him back with no small amount of enthusiasm. 

They made out like that for she didn’t know how long, coming back to herself as the credits started rolling on a swell of triumphant music. 

He pulled back to look at her and reached up to rub a thumb along her jaw, which sent a shiver up her spine. 

“I swear when I invited you over, I didn’t have an agenda,” he said softly. 

“I’m the one who kissed  _ you _ ,” she said, still in disbelief that she’d actually done it. She reached up and wiped the back of her hand along her mouth; it came away wet.

“Listen, if  _ you _ have an agenda, I’m totally fine with it,” he laughed.

“You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” she asked him and he shook his head earnestly.

She smiled and then crawled into his lap brazenly. He looked surprised and pleased and moved his hands until they were resting on her hips.

“I don’t usually do this,” she said, and he rubbed his thumbs on her hipbones. 

“I have zero expectations,” he said, “but a fair amount of enthusiasm.”

She could feel his enthusiasm under her, swelling up under the crotch of her jeans. She rocked herself into his lap once and the smile faded from his lips on a sharp breath. He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her, hard. 

She felt powerful and overtly sexual; like a bacchanalian nymph lustily feasting on grapes from the hand of a god. 

She reached down as his tongue plunged deeply into her mouth, her hands finding the fly on his jeans. He reached down and grabbed her hands in one of his own and pulled back. 

“Scully, are you sure?” he asked and she rocked into him once more. 

“Yes,” she said emphatically, and he pulled back his hands and ran them up under her shirt, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts under her bra. She popped his fly open and dragged the zipper down, feeling his erection pressing against the fabric, hot and needy. She shoved a hand into his pants.

She hadn’t had sex since she’d tried getting back together over the summer with Dipshit Marcus, a fumbling, fairly unsatisfying affair in the back his dad’s late model Oldsmobile. Even if she didn’t get off today, she’d be happy just trying. There was something powerful unfurling between her and Mulder, something she could feel in her chest as well as her womb. 

“Do you have a roommate?” she whispered, running her tongue along the shell of his ear. 

It took him a moment to answer. 

“Yes,” he said, and reluctantly stood, his fly hanging open like the wings of a bat. He reached out for her hand and pulled her along behind him and into a bedroom, the room itself not quite as neat as the rest of his apartment had been. 

“Sorry,” he said, shutting the door and grabbing her by the backside, “I was not expecting bedroom company.”

In answer she reached in between them and pulled his erection out of his boxers, giving him a firm stroke. 

“Jesus,” he whispered, and began kicking his jeans down and off his legs. She let go of him briefly to yank his shirt over his head and then reached down and pulled off her own. 

He stood before her breathing hard, ithyphallic and tall. He reached up and ran a hand through her hair, tucking her frizzy hair behind one ear. 

“You’re really beautiful,” he said, and then pulled her to the bed, scooting over so she could crawl in next to him. 

She leaned over to kiss him even as she began stroking him with her hand, her pulse pounding in her clit. His hands found her breasts and rolled her nipples through the fabric.

After a minute he reached down and stilled her hands and then went for the fly on her own jeans, looking up to her momentarily for permission. 

She licked her lips and nodded at him and he shimmied himself down on the bed, pulling her jeans down and over her ass and then all the way off her legs. He caressed her slowly from the ankles up as he made his way back up towards her. He paused when he got to her thoroughly soaked panties, hooking his thumb through the leg and pulling them off. He ran his fingers over the aching, sensitive flesh on the edge of her sex, and she had to stop herself from bucking up into him. 

“Let me,” he said and then lowered his head without waiting for an answer, tonguing her seam as he pushed her right leg out to open her to his mouth. 

Her head fell back against the pillows, already feeling the shooting sparks of an approaching orgasm, her body as tightly strung as a violin. He ran his teeth once lightly over her clit and she was gone, moaning as quietly as she could while her hips bucked up into his generous mouth. 

After a moment she felt him moving back up her body, and she pulled him into a hot, bruising kiss, more het up than she had ever felt in her life. 

“Do you have anything?” she pulled back and asked him, and he nodded, his mouth glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He reached over into a drawer next to the bed and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with impatience. 

“I am so-” he started to say when he turned back to her, and she nodded at him. 

“Me too,” she said. 

He moved between her legs and positioned himself at her entrance with one hand, using the other to run through her hair. He leaned down and kissed her once sweetly, and then pushed himself slowly into her, giving her a moment to acclimate to his size. When she pulled him down for a kiss, he pulled back and then thrust into her fully, burying himself as deeply as he could go. 

Something vital bloomed up from inside of her, bringing tears to her eyes. Squeezing them back, she looked up to Mulder whose own gaze was casting over her face with a frankness that felt raw and elemental.

“Are you feeling this?” he whispered, holding her face in both hands, searching her eyes with his own. 

“I-” she panted, “yes. Yes.” 

She knew what he meant; it was a compathy. More than just sex, there was an energy in the room, a third presence that had the feeling of fate. It was like electricity was arcing between them, shocking the tumblers of a lock into place. 

When he began to move, she clung to him; wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his back. He pressed his forehead into the arc of her shoulder and she held on for dear life. 

She had never felt anything like this -- never felt a passion this intense or a connection with someone this strong. It was overwhelming to the point of dissociation, like she needed to float above their writhing bodies just to process it. And then after one particularly deep stroke, she felt herself coming apart again, calling out Mulder’s name as he came undone himself, pulling her tightly to himself with a long hiss. 

When she came back to herself moments later, he was laying beside her, his hand spread wide across her abdomen, his nose pressed into her hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“I’m more than okay,” she said, and she felt him chuckle into her side. 

“Me too,” he said, rolling to stand up. He disposed of the condom and then slid back into bed beside her, pulling her into his side. 

“This should feel awkward, but it doesn’t,” she said. 

He pressed a kiss to the skin at the base of her ear. 

“Isn’t that a line from  _ The Kenyan Prophecy _ ?” he said. 

“Shit, is it?” she said, turning her head to get a look at him. 

“I think so, yeah.”

“Let’s call Anand, he can use this in his presentation,” she joked. 

“Good idea,” he said, calling her bluff and standing. 

She shrieked once and pulled him back down, and he dropped heavily on the bed with a laugh, then turned to her, his face serious. 

“Scully, this isn’t something I do a lot. Or something I take lightly. If this doesn’t mean anything to you, that’s fine, but you’ve gotta tell me now.”

Scully leaned up on an elbow and ran a hand down his arm, gripping when she got to his hand. 

“What’s that line Peter McKnight says at the end of  _ Charlevoix _ ?” she said, squeezing once. 

“‘If you will be there, so will I,’” Mulder recited.    


“... So will I,” she said, and leaned in to kiss him.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to admiralty for the beta, who does it with love and attention even though she hates AU and that's turned into like, all I write. ILU


End file.
